


Unforeseen

by Coclico



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Mpreg, Secrets, Unplanned Pregnancy, motherly feelings on board
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coclico/pseuds/Coclico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ace saved the day he didn't leave right away but stayed a night, which results in a lot of trouble for a certain third technician.</p><p>DISCONTINUED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ignition

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Condoms In Space](https://archiveofourown.org/works/161556) by [Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi). 



> It's my first Red Dwarf story, this fandom clearly deserves more fanfics. I want to thank the wonderful humon (you can easily look her up on deviantart), for she is the reason I discovered RD in the first place. I also want to thank my beat reader Jennifer, she's been adorable. However neither she nor I are native speakers, so please forgive me my mistakes.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it :)

Ace has seen other Listers before. Of course he has, this is after all the 82nd dimension he’s visiting so far. He has met space bums and successful ones, female as well as male ones, evil and angelic Listers. Some had plaits, most did, others had the same smile as Spanners. Most were keen on facial hair, but some, like this one, lacked it. Like every other before him he's unique and so it shouldn’t make such a lasting impression on the space hero when he meets this one.

And yet there he is, Ace Rimmer, saviour of several universes, being affected by one of the many, many David Listers out there. He can’t really pinpoint what it is about this one that makes his insides twist pleasantly. He doesn’t have anything he hasn’t already seen at alternative versions of the man, although he has to admit that he has never seem them in this precise combination.

He has long dreadlocks, that reach his butt when he throws his head back. Dark eyes and a gaze so intense it makes the dimension jumper weak in the knees. A skin that whispers to his fingertips to reach out and just touch it. But most unsettling of all is without a doubt this smile. This smile which is so similar to Spanners’ one, so alike and yet so different, for the effects they evoke in Ace can’t be compared to one another.

This smile makes him want to eat this Lister alive. To devour that mouth in a soul-searing kiss. He wants to taste that smile, wants to bury his tongue in it, even though he suspects that it would not rest in peace there, not that he’s hoping for it.

And then there’s this smell. It contained quite a few elements that are by no means unusual for Listers: curry, cigarette smoke, steal sweat from not having showered in at least a week and the unmistakeable scent that all Daves without a fail have in common. But once again this one varies from all his alternative selves, for he seems to have an additional odour mixed in. Ace can’t quiet make out what it is, but he finds it simply intoxicating*.

Yes Ace has met other Listers before him, but for some unknown reason this one makes him forget that his bread isn’t supposed to be buttered that side.  
However this Dave seems to be as alluring as the Rimmer in this dimension is bitter. What a pain in the butt!

He’s just finishing sewing his left arm as Lister enters the room. He’s about to tell him that he can’t stand the sight of his alternative self no longer, but as his eyes fall on Skipper’s open and honest face the words die in his throat. He can’t bring himself to say it, can’t bring himself to depart already.

“Put your finger on that, will you, Skipper?” he asks instead, gesturing towards the stitches on his arm. Ace doesn’t know if it’s just his wishful thinking or if the other man’s hand has really lingered on his skin far longer than necessary.

He goes on explaining why the Rimmer in this reality has developed so differently, all the while leaning back on a wall, taking in the sight of Lister. The shorter man is now leaning on the opposite wall, playing with the cigarette in his fingers.

“Hey Ace, man, I could use yer help ‘ere.” he says with his heavy accent, wiggling the cigarette suggestively.

He plants his good hand next to his face and bends down till the tip of his cigarette touches Lister’s so that he may ignite it. At first the man in front of him seems concentrated on the warm glow that is growing between them, but than he looks up. His eyes meet Ace’s with a gaze like a killer that is out to murder Ace’s self-control.

Lister moves in slow motion, his fingers sluggishly wrapping around his cig before moving it away from his mouth. He parts his lips to let the smoke escape without exhaling.

Ace resistance snapps like an overstretched rubber band and before he has the time to register what is happening he’s kissing the third technician with abandon. It feels like falling off a cliff and Ace’s determined to drag Lister down with him.

He never imagined what any Lister would taste like, but if he would have had to guess, this is exactly what he would have come up with. He savours the faint taste of vindaloo and smoke that still lingers on his tongue. A soft moan takes a walk from his mouth into Lister’s as he relishes in the moist feeling of another tongue sliding against his own.

Lister must have had similar intentions for he kisses back without as much as a hint of hesitation, his hand which is not holding the slow burning roll of tobacco finding its way to his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

When Ace draws back Lister’s face follows his a few centimetres, obviously not wanting it to end. The test pilot cups one of Skipper’s cheeks in his hands, covering the slight blush that is forming underneath. The shorter man lowers his gaze sheepishly, taking another drag from his cigarette with a somewhat shaky breath.

“’T’s been a while.” He tries to justify himself.

Ace fights to suppress a shudder, debating with himself if he should pop the question or not, but Lister beats him to it.

“Want me to chase away Rimmah so we can ‘ave the room to ourselves?”

Not trusting himself to be capable of composing sentences just yet he simply nods in response.

Not a minute later this irritating version of him is running out of the room like he’s fleeing from something while his bunkmate leans in the doorway with a satisfied smirk on his face. He catches his eyes again, cocks his head into the direction of the newly liberated room and disappears in it.  
Ace is more than happy to follow him.


	2. To sow ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go with the smutty part of the story, so if any of you doesn’t like to read about action between two males, feel free to skip this chapter.  
> I completely forgot the disclaimer in the last chapter! So, just to be clear: I don’t own any of the characters, Red Dwarf belong to some funny British person who’s name I’ve forgotten.  
> Renewed thanks to my beta Jennifer, you saved me from quiet a few embarrassing mistakes :)  
> Enjoy!

As soon as the door slides locked behind him, you fling your arms around him. He responds by giving you an open-mouthed kiss and you can almost taste his hunger for you. You understand him far too well. You try to express your want with your body, pressing it against his and burying your hands in his hair. Apparently he gets the message for it doesn’t take him long before he starts fidgeting with your vest.

You break the kiss to get rid off it and loose your balance a bit in the process. You had to stand on your tiptoes the whole time, because he is at least a head taller than you. He steadies you with his good arm and uses your distraction to begin his assault on your neck. He knows just which spots to nibble at, where to suck. A gasp escapes your throat as he pulls the fabric of your shirt to the side so that he can bite the area where your neck meets your shoulder.

Meanwhile your hands are migrating towards the hem of his jacket. You want to feel him. When your fingertips finally reach a patch of smooth skin you can’t help but sign contently. It has been too long. You can’t even remember the last time you did something like this. Snogging somebody senseless while wishing your clothes would miraculously disappear. Undressing is such a drag! It takes away precious time you could use to explore Ace’s abs instead.

You hands move up, brushing one of his nipples as if by accident. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch although he radiates warmth. You take the opportunity when he unfastened the clasps of his jacket to open your long johns’ buttons. Thankfully his hand returns to your body soon. He gently caresses your shoulder and collarbone, his fingers sliding underneath the fabric of your garment to help it glide down your arm.

His hand is swiftly followed by his mouth and pleased little sounds fall from your lips as he showers you with attention once more. But you don’t stay idle. Your hands tugs at his shirt, hoping he will take the hint and discard the annoying piece of clothing. You help him out of it when he eventually does and your hands fly to his chest as soon as his upper body is bare, like they are attracted to it magnetically. 

You rejoice at the feeling of his firm torso and lean forward to inhale his heady scent. In the meantime his hand has reached your buttocks and squeezes. You can’t really make out why, but this arouses you further and you need more of him, more of him now!

You pull him even closer to you, want his body to touch yours as much as possible. You can feel his erection through his pants and grind yours against it. The sensation of his hard prick pressed against yours is enough to make you groan.

You’re both still wearing far too many clothes! Who the smeg invented them anyway? Surely nobody who liked to have sex! Cursing whoever came up with the concept of clothes under your breath you try to open Ace’s fly and fail miserably. Always the hero, he helps you and has more success with only one hand than you have with both.

One of your hands sneaks into his pants and you let out a little sound of surprise mixed with delight as you find out that he’s not wearing any underwear. You grin up at him as you take him in your hands, liking how warm and heavy he feels in your palm.

He kisses the grin right off your face and causes you to stumble a bit backwards and bump into the table. An idea crosses your mind. Without interrupting your lip lock you heave yourself up to sit on the table. You spread your legs and pull Ace forward to fit between them till your crotches are touching.

You try to move against him, to create some kind of friction. He rubs against you, but it’s still not enough. Your hands slide inside his pants again, this time to cup his firm buttocks. You tug at his pants till gravity takes over and they fall around his ankles.

Your own pants and long johns are become quite bothersome, not to mention impossibly tight and soon you fidget with you own fly. Ace plants his left hand flat on your chest and pushes you backwards till your back hits the surface of the table. He instructs you to lift your hips and then proceeds to take off your remaining pieces of clothing along with your socks and shoes.

After having removed your last sock he takes your foot in his hand and kisses it. Your face is set aflame, for you know your own feet and they sure as hell don’t smell like roses. But if they stink Ace either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He continues kissing your foot, kisses every toes, then the plant of your foot before moving to the inside of your leg and oh – you know where this is heading. Your head falls back with a thud at the mental image.

After what seems half an eternity he reaches your arching cock and gives the underside of it an agonisingly slow lick till he reaches the head, which he almost carefully takes in his mouth. He starts sucking at it gentle and you wonder if it’s the first time he does something like this. It sure has been a while since you sucked any dick. You prop up on your elbows to be able to observe him as he cautiously swallows you centimetre per centimetre. You pant at the sight of his lips stretched around you.

His hand, which had been caressing your upper thigh all the while, now starts playing with your balls. You decide that you don’t give a flying fuck if it’s his first try. He’s a smegging genius.  
He doesn’t play with your balls for long though, but his hand isn’t absent for long. The feeling of a finger circling your hole startles you a bit. You realise what Ace probably has in mind. You groan. A minute ago you hadn’t even come up with the idea but now that it’s been planted in your mind you want it and you want it badly! Smegging hell you met this man only a short while ago but you’re certain that you never wanted something as desperately as his cock inside you.

Finally he starts fucking you with one of his fingers while sucking your cock. You wish you would be a more religious person so that you could thank whatever deity out there, that you have a good enough stamina to handle all this, for you are sure that any normal person would have come a long time ago.

As he enters a second finger he twists them a little and it takes all your self-control not to scream in ecstasy. He plays you like an instrument and you love every second of it. You let the artist perform and only mutter a hoarse “More, more please!” in encouragement.

Ace draws back from your cock, making a soft popping noise as it leaves his mouth and bends over you.

“The table’s too high up, Davey-boy. Wanna move this to the bed?” His voice sounds scratchy and is practically dripping with lust and you’re glad to know you’re not the only one who’s mind is clouded over with desire.

You nod and you’re pretty sure your eyes must have a glazed over look, for it proves to be quiet the task to focus on anything other that the sensations flooding your body. You feel a slight pang of disappointment as his fingers leave your body, but you tell yourself not to fret for you know the feeling of emptiness won’t last long.

As Ace moves towards the bottom bunk – you can’t suppress a grin at the thought of desecrating Rimmer’s mattress – you disappear into the bathroom a moment. You come back out with a bottle of body lotion, because you lack any proper lube. It will have to do.

You walk to the bunk, straddle his hips and look into his face. You freeze. For a moment he looked just like Rimmer. Well, you suppose that’s only logic, considering he is an alternative version of him. You shake your head. No, Ace is nothing like Rimmer, you assure yourself. Sure it’s the same nose, the same eyes, but his attitude, his voice, his … charisma. He and Rimmer are polar opposites. After all – you and Rimmer in bed? You snort at the mere thought of it. Thankfully Ace bucks under your, demanding attention, and any ridiculous ideas about the smeghead and you become the least of your concerns.

You pop open the bottle and squeeze some lotion into your hand before grabbing Ace’s throbbing erection. You spread it all over him and cause him to let out a stifled moan. You position him at your opening and look into his face for reassurance. He’s fixated on where the tip of his erection is pressing against your rim. He seems to be absolutely mesmerised by your actions and it’s the confirmation of his willingness you’ve been looking for.

You bite your bottom lip as you prudently let his cock’s head slip into you. You push in the rest of his length so slowly that it hardly hurts you at all. All you feel is a deeply satisfying stretching sensation as he disappears in you to the hilt. You pause as he is in you completely and savour the sensation you haven’t experienced in far too long. You are overcome with an almost feverish feeling.

You start to raise your hips a little, only to let yourself fall back down after a few centimetres. You are flooded with a sensation of fullness that makes you shiver in delight. You repeat the movement with more fervour, loving how you can feel every centimetre of his slick cock as it slides in and out of you.

He grips your hip with his good hand and plants his feet on the mattress. He tilts his pelvis and all of a sudden it’s him doing the thrusting although you’re the one on top. Smeg, even with a broken arm he manages to fuck you senseless. What a guy indeed!

He angles his hips just so and suddenly you throw your head back. You let it hang there like it doesn’t have neck to hold it anymore. Deep in you Ace’s cock is rubbing against this particular spot that makes your back arch.

You fall forward, now laying on his chest, and loose the awesome feeling in the process. But Ace cants his hips just so and – ah- there it is once more. You moan throatily and your eyes are clouded with a wanton look. If only this could last forever. But as his hands leave your hip and grasps your forgotten cock instead you know you won’t be able to last much longer.

You sit up once more, meeting his thrusts so that he may sink even deeper into you. The already overwhelming sensation is increased by your conjoint efforts. Your mouth hangs open as a silent scream of pleasure is ripped from your lips.

You pry open an eye to take a look at Ace’s face and it’s the sight of his expression of pure bliss that pushes you over the edge. A moan far louder than you indented erupts from your throat as you come with an intensity that you haven’t had the joy to experience in years. You spill your seed all over his hand and his belly but you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

The violence of your orgasm has caused you to stop moving, but it takes Ace only a few more thrusts to come too. You can feel his cock pulsating inside you and it gives you goose bumps, but in a positive way. Although you are exhausted you resume your movements, rocking your hips a bit as if to milk every last drop he has to offer. All to soon however your body goes slack and you let yourself fall against his chest, which is rapidly moving from his laboured breathing.

Your fingertips draw lazy circles on his torso as you two slowly come down from your high. Cautiously he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling strangely hollow. You feel some of his warm, sticky essence flowing down your thigh, but you can’t be bothered to whip it away right now. That’s what tomorrows are there for.

You can feel your eye lids becoming heavier by the second as his fingers are moving trough your unruly hair. You fall into a peaceful slumber with Ace’s heartbeat under your head as a lullaby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcome, especially concerning this chapter though. It's the first lemon I wrote in years and so I want to know if there's anything I could have done better, so please let me know if you have any advice you want to share.


	3. ... and to harvest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to: humon  
> Disclaimer: Red Dwarf is not mine  
> Betareader: Jennifer, whom I'd like to thank very much
> 
> Enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think about it =)

The first thing you notice in the morning is the smell that still lingers in the sheets. You are well used to the familiar smell, or rather stench, of your sheets and so it strikes you as odd to wake up to a heady scent that’s obviously neither yours nor the Cat’s, who sometimes sneaks into your bunk for a nap.

You squint your eyes open and find – nothing. Well you don’t know what you expected. It’s just you lying in your bunk as usual. But wait! The floor is too near. This isn’t your bunk – it’s Rimmer’s. What the smegging hell are you doing in Rimmer’s bunk?

As the fog of drowsiness slowly lightens up your memories start to come back and bring a smile with them. You stretch and notice you’re pleasantly sore, which makes your smile widen.

You look around. Ace is nowhere to be seen, but you take note of a piece of paper on the table. With a groan you rise from the bunk, your limbs still feeling heavy with sleep. You stumble over to the table and find a letter. You notice that even Ace’s handwriting varies from Rimmer’s.

The letter explains how your recently found lover has to go on exploring other dimensions, thanks you for the unforgettable night and apologises for not waking you.

“Smoke me a kipper, old love, I’ll be back for breakfast.”

His last words bring a sad smile to your face for you know deep down that he won’t be back . Not for breakfast and probably not for a whole lot longer. With a sign you fall back into the bottom bunk and hug the pillow. You’re not in love but you sure will miss him.

You are musing if you should get dressed when the door slides open and for a second there you think it’s Ace but than –

“You piece of filth!”

Nope, that’s definitely Rimmer’s nasal voice.

“In my bunk? On my sheets? How could you?”

Somehow you have a strong sense of déjà-vu.

“Well, I wish you luck explaining the situation to Kryten. He’s been a nervous wreck since yesterday evening.”

You blink in confusion.

“Kryten? Why the smeg did you tell ‘im?”

“Oh, I didn’t need to tell him. You moaning like a cheap porn star loud enough for the whole ship to hear was kind of a giveaway.”

Your face can’t decide if it wants to set itself aflame or go pale like a sheet. They will never let you live this one down. You wonder if the strange stretching sensation you feel in your abdomen is caused by shame or the frustration that it’s physically impossible to punch the sneer off Rimmer’s face.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

It’s about seven weeks after Ace’s departure that you start to notice something is off. You open a bottle of lager like you have done countless times before, but this time when you inhale the scent of your favourite beverage it evokes the opposite reaction it usually does. You feel nauseous and the last thing you want to do is drink it. The smell is awful!

You wonder if the bottle has gone bad, but after opening two more bottles you still come up with the same result. You try taking a sip, after all something could be up with your nose and not with the lager for all you know. You spit it right back out however, as your stomach protests with a loud rumble. Okay so no lager today. It’s not the end of the world.

You try again the next day, but the result is still the same: your stomach lets you know how unhappy it is about the prospect of being flooded with lager. You muse if maybe you caught some kind of virus or something, because your new-found intolerance to lager is not the only thing bothering you. You feel like you’re vindaloo tastes different, it’s not as delicious as it used to be.

Or maybe you have an overdose? Rimmer always jokes that it will happen one day, perhaps he’s right for once? You let out a short laugh at the ridiculousness of that though. Yeah, right! You shake your head. You just worry too much, that’s all.

You feel tired and yet you can hardly sleep, at least not at night. It’s unpleasant when you try to sleep on your belly, your sheets feel itchy and your chest … well it’s almost like it’s offended that you would put all that weight on it. You feel like the Cat lately, you take naps rather than having a good night’s sleep.

It has been about two weeks since your stomach started going on strike against lager and your tongue appears to appreciate curry less and less each day. You’ve asked Kryten to check you out a few days ago, but you’re as healthy as can be. Actually to his delight the droid could observe your blood pressure had dropped a bit. Your worries have been for naught, there’s nothing wrong with you.

It hits you another three weeks later while you are nibbling at a piece of pineapple pizza. You are hit by an overwhelming sense of déjà-vu and suddenly realise why: because you’ve had all those symptoms before. Tender nipples, weariness, queasiness, … it all adds up. It takes a while for the thought to really sink in and when it finally settles in your consciousness you’re proud that the first thing you do is throw your lit cigarette as far away from you as possible.

A feeling of panic invades you. It can’t be! It just can’t! How is that even possibly? You had no idea bearing children would still be a possibility after Jim and Bexley. Oh smeg! You feel like you have just been punched in the stomach, a heavy, cold feeling of dread is settling in your guts. The palms of your hands – hell, even of your feet – start sweating.

You can’t! You can’t be, you just, no, there’s no way you could, …

You feel like throwing up and fainting at the same time. You feel cold and start hugging yourself. Way to go Dave! The last human alive and you still manage to get knocked up twice, both times as the result of a one-night-stand, both times in Rimmer’s bunk and … wait minute!

Of course! There are so many similarities, too many. Your brain must have associated the two events and unconsciously your body started to behave like it did back than! That must be it! It just has to be, because the only other reasonable explanation would be that you actually are up the duff again and that’s just inconceivable.

But somehow the suspicion just doesn’t stop nagging at your thoughts. What if by any chance you are indee – but that’s unthinkable! How unfortunate would one person have to be to get pregnant twice with just one try each? How unfortunate or how fertile?

Well, you tell yourself, there’s only one way to know for sure. And so you shakily get on your way to the medical bay.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

You’ve had your dose of déjà-vues! You are starting to get sick and tired of them as you pace through the medi bay while waiting for the results of the pregnancy test. Damn you and your smegging libido! It’s only been causing you trouble, you should really stop listening to it.

You’re not ready for another child! You look over to the test. It’s still white. This waiting is making you go nuts.

You stop pacing and stare down at your belly. Carefully you lift your top with your left hand and press your right one to the lower part of your tummy where you know a baby would develop if there really is one. There’s a small bump under you bellybutton. It’s a bit harder than the pudgy flesh that surrounds it but you honestly can’t tell if it’s truly there of if it’s just your imagination leading you astray because of your paranoia.

You turn around to take another look at the pregnancy test.

It turned red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone remembers what red stood for? Well, it's not like it's hard to figure out ^^


	4. Hopes and Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much’s happening in this chapter, it’s mainly Lister reflection on his new situation. The title was inspired by Will Young song of the same name, watch the video, you’ll understand why immediately ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, neither do I earn anything *sniff*
> 
> Dedicated to: humon
> 
> My wonderful beta: ifmymusicistooloudthanyouaretooold

Your emotions are like a rollercoaster. Stable, down, up and down again, stable, oh but down was so fun, let’s do that again. You cry. You know it’s not the manliest thing to do, but you put the blame on the hormones. You stare at your tiny bump accusingly although you are well aware that it’s not its fault – it’s your own.

Your self-loathing grows to the size of Rimmer’s. You made a child with somebody you are likely to never see again, somebody with the same genetic material as Rimmer. You cringe. A child that will never be able to play with others its age.

For a moment you consider having it removed, but a few heartbeats later you are disgusted with yourself for even taking something like that into consideration. You’re parents didn’t want you either, but they still let you live. You shouldn’t let your kid pay for the fact that you like sleeping around without using protection. You had it coming, you’ve only have got yourself to blame.

A thousand different thoughts run through your mind, but one thought stands out: You don’t want to tell the others. At least not yet. You don’t want Rimmer to make fun of you, don’t want Kryten fussing over you and you don’t feel like putting up with the Cat’s dumb remarks or Holly’s comments concerning the topic.

Sure you will have to tell them at one point or another, just … not now. You aren’t even capable of dealing with this yourself yet, you sure as hell don’t want to have to deal with the others reactions as well.

You lay your hands on the almost invisible swell of your belly. You’re going to be a mum again. A sudden realisation hits you. You can keep this one. You won’t have to give it away, it was conceived in this universe so there won’t be any accelerated ageing. And you wouldn’t even know were to begin looking for its father so it will have to stay with you anyway.

Your heart still aches when you think back about the time Jim and Bexley lived with you. You could feel them grow while they slept in your arms. You remember throwing up when you came back to your own dimension after giving them to Debbie. You couldn’t stand the sight of the toys they would never be using again still laying in your room. You were so depressed that day that even the Cat showed some compassion.

You try to embrace your midsection in an awkward self-hug. The idea of having another child scares the smegging hell out of you, but another fear is now added to your numbing insecurity. The irrational fear of losing this kid. You want to keep it, it’s yours. You don’t ever want to give it away, you’re not sure you could handle it again.

“Hey kid,” you whisper almost timidly to your tummy “I don’ know what to do yet, but I love you already. “

You’re not sure if those words are meant to reassure the baby or yourself.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Hol?”

“Yes Dave?”

“How many life forms are on board right now?”

“Just the four of you, why?”

“Just checkin’. Wouldn’ be first time we ‘ave some unwanted visitor.”

So unborn life isn’t taken into account, good to know. You sign. Ever since finding out about your condition you are haunted by the irrational fear that the others will look at you and just know, like it’s been tattooed on your forehead or something equally stupid.

Well, you’re fairly sure the Cat wouldn’t find out even if it where and Kryten is not much of threat either, but Rimmer still shares your quarters and Holly has access to every security camera on board. Not for the first time you find yourself thanking the universe for her senility.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

A week goes by before you wonder how far along you are. You’re pretty sure you are supposed to know such a thing. But since you can’t for the life of you tell much time has gone by since Ace’s unexpected visit you do the only thing you can think of in such a situation:

“Kryten, how long ‘as it been since Ace left?”

“Well Mister Lister, sir, I reckon* it must have been a few months ago.”

A few months. Even for you that’s a bit a bit too approximate.

“Could you be anymore specific?”

“To be exact, sir, it has been 93 days, 4 hours, 52 minutes and 13 second since his spaceship left Red Dwarf.”

Great now you have to calculate, how bothersome. You’re almost done dividing 93 through seven to find out how many weeks along you are when the droid interrupts your train of thoughts.

“It has been my pleasure to have been of service, Mister Lister, sir, but may I inquire as too why you need this piece of information.”

“Nah, I’ve just been wonderin’.”

You just want to be a halfway responsible mother and be aware of how long you have been pregnant, but you don’t tell him that of course. You haven’t even really digested the fact that you are up the duff yet. You feel even less ready to tell the others than you did when you found out. You just need some more time to sort things out.

It takes you a while to figure it out, but after a couple of minutes you finally know that you are three months and two days or so along. Well that’s good to know … you suppose. Six more months to go. You relax a little. You’ve still got half a year to get used to the idea of having a kid. For the first time in seven days you feel like you will be able to cope with this situation … eventually.

You let out a long sigh. Of course you will. You got used to it two years ago and you will do so once more. After all this isn’t just any kid you are expecting, it’s going to be your family. You smile at this thought. Family. Yeah, that sound about right.

Feeling a little better you and your family make your way back to your sleeping quarters, as you’re in dire need for another nap after the exhaustion of practicing something as tiresome as math.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I hate this word. I don't really know it's meaning, but for whatever reason it felt right to use it here, please tell me if it was wrong to do so. Also if this story ever goes on, it'll probably not be anytime soon, sorry folks =/

**Author's Note:**

> *I'm fascinated with biology, so I had to build that one in. So many animals attract potential sexual partners with their scent, I just couldn't resist X)
> 
> Comments are always welcome, I hope you liked it.  
> Please don't hesitate to criticize me, I wanna get better after all.


End file.
